


one love, two mouths

by KnownGoon



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, domestic life, this is so soft im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 16:27:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11294400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnownGoon/pseuds/KnownGoon
Summary: Sometimes Dylan feels like his love for Connor is bigger than him





	one love, two mouths

**Author's Note:**

> This is short and soft.
> 
> Thanks to Tango for reading and telling me it didn't suck and to Kes for beta-ing (and to both for letting me scream about soft boys in love).
> 
>  
> 
> Title from "Sweater Weather" by The Neighbourhood, which is the inspiration of this fic.

Sometimes Dylan feels like his love for Connor is bigger than him. He can’t really explain it, it warms him, it comes like waves, sometimes quietly and sometimes it just washes over him completely, without warning,

Winter for them is different from other seasons. 

They still play hockey, they’re still miles away from each other, but there’s this sense of warmth and love that they feel stronger than any other time of the year. 

It probably has to do with the fact that they got together in December, back when they still were in juniors, and Dylan can only think fondly of those moments, the emotion of finally kissing each other, the sense of happiness that ran through him, feeling sure that Connor was his and he was Connor’s. It’s something that he still feels today. 

It’s their winter break, so they have a couple of days without games, no press stuff, just the two of them together in Connor’s house. 

Dylan wakes up early, because sometimes his natural clock fucks up and wakes him up at 7am. Connor is beside him, stretched out on his stomach, one arm on the pillow and the other draped over Dylan, just resting there. The sun is already up, barely, but it’s winter in Edmonton so everything looks foggy, with that blue light of this season. Connor’s face looks relaxed - he hasn’t completely lost his childish aura. (Dylan hopes he never loses it.) Connor’s snoring a little, just little puffs of air, and Dylan is a damn cliche because he can’t believe he’s so in love with this man.

 

It’s their last day together. Alone at least. 

They’re going home with their parents in a couple of hours to spend Christmas with them. Their families know each other well, and for the sake of the two of them have arranged Christmas Eve dinner together. Dylan suspects it was Ryan’s idea - he keeps complaining about having to hear Dylan’s phone going off all day cause he and Connor can’t stop messaging. 

Dylan gets up to go to the bathroom, and then just goes to the kitchen looking for food. He hears Connor’s alarm go off, which surprises him because he didn’t realize he had been thinking for a long time. It happens sometimes. He’d stay in bed and just think and think and think. 

Dylan starts the coffee machine and waits for Davo to finish his morning routine. When he finally shows up, he looks rumpled, hair sticking up everywhere even though he’s running his fingers through it, trying to fix it. 

“Morning,” he says, and hugs him. Dylan is against the counter so Connor just lets his weight go, still half asleep. He’s on his sleep shorts but is wearing a sweater, a hoodie really, since the morning is cold. Both are barefoot. 

“Morning,” Dylan responds, and he just puts his arms around him.

Connor is bigger now. Back when they started dating, they both were thinner. Now they’ve grown into their bodies. It’s impossible for him to not notice the changes on Connor, he knows him better than himself. His shoulders got broader, his waist is still thin but he can feel the muscles formed with hours of exercise and playing. 

Dylan is still taller, though. It’s one thing that hasn’t changed and it makes him feel better, when everything around him changes - up and down in the league, teammates that come and go, cities that they only see for 5 minutes - the fact that he can come home to Connor, that he can hug him and feel those little inches of difference in height, makes everything more manageable.

Connor, still half on him, sighs and straightens up, kisses him on the cheek and goes to check on the coffee. Dylan goes for the fruit. It’s a routine, not one they get to do too often but they enjoy it. It’s comfortable, nice to be able to do this. It gives them a glance of what they could have, once one of them gets tired enough, or maybe if they were able to play together again… 

They sit next to each other on the table, Connor is basically facing him, one of his legs mostly on his lap, and talks about his family’s plans for Christmas, the things his brother told him they were planning for the dinner, and Dylan feels the warmth again. 

It starts in his chest, as if his heart were beating stronger, and it spreads to his stomach that just does weird things. Somehow, the tingly feeling gets to the rest of his body. He’s smiling and knows that he’s watching Connor in that stupid-in-love way that his teammates love to chirp him for, but here, in the privacy of their home, he doesn’t care. 

Connor stops talking, putting his coffee mug down and resting his head on his hand, and looks directly at Dylan; he stares right back. It’s not a staring competition until suddenly, it is. Dylan starts making faces at Connor, and he can tell he’s trying really hard not to smile. But eventually, both of them erupt in laughter. 

It’s stupid, it’s childish, but it’s them. They have never cared for what people say about their relationship. It hasn’t been easy, and they still have to keep it secret most of the time, but they never doubt if it’s worth it. Mitchy always chirps them about how in love they are. “Hockey sweethearts”, he calls them. 

Once Dylan and Connor calm down, they finish their breakfast and wash the dishes since they’re not coming back for a while. Dylan is actually flying directly to Pennsylvania, and they aren’t going to be able to see each other until February, when Connor has his bye-week.

“Hey Dyls,” says Connor, standing in the middle of the kitchen.

“Yes?” Dylan answers, smiling a little, matching Davo’s little smile. 

“I love you.” 

Dylan walks to him and, taking his hands, looks him in the eyes. “I love you too.”

It’s a tender moment, a thing just between them. The kind of memory you remember, not because was monumental, but because it’s them, their love in the purest form. 

Dylan kisses him, softly, lazily, the same way the morning has gone, just enjoying each other, on this quiet piece of the world. 

When they separate, both have a smile on their faces. Connor laces his fingers with Dylan’s, and puts their hands on the warm pocket of his sweater, dragging him to the bedroom.


End file.
